


scratch the terror and begin to believe you're strong

by bestliars



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Cats, M/M, Minnesota Wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikke breaks his wrist. Nino comes home with a cat. The Wild lose a lot of hockey games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	scratch the terror and begin to believe you're strong

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who listened to me talk about this idea, especially Bess, who beta read it and saved you all from my punctuation.  
> The title is from “Plea From a Cat Named Virtute,” by the Weakerthans, which is a perfect song that you should go listen to.

**December 27th**

Mikke breaks his wrist, and it is terrible. It is the worst thing in the world, except for how it isn’t even the worst thing that could have happened from that hit. But being hurt is always the worst thing in the world. Always.

Even if it is just his wrist. With a broken wrist there’s a timeline for him to be back on the ice. It isn’t the same as being trapped waiting for his head to let him feel good again. Mikke should feel grateful for that, but he is too busy feeling terrible.

Jonas gets hurt in the same game. It is a bad night. Mikke doesn’t see what happens. He is already broken when it happens. They lose to the Jets in overtime.

Mikke scored the first goal of the game, but they still lost. There was nothing he could do about it.

Jonas and him got hurt in the same game once before, two years ago in Houston. They came up to Saint Paul to see the Wild’s doctors, Jonas with a broken collarbone and Mikke with his ankle messed up. It doesn’t feel as scary now. Everything is a more familiar now: the trainers, the language, each other. It’s still terrible. Being hurt is always the worst thing in the world.

They’re going to get left behind while the team flies to Winnipeg for the rematch, and then on to Columbus and the next game. 

Mikke should be on that trip too.

At least the team isn’t leaving until the morning. It would be worse if Nino wasn’t there to take him home, bring him things, force him into bed. Nino will be gone in the morning, but at least they get this. 

Nino kisses him before he leaves, deep and sweet, but Mikke can’t enjoy it properly because his wrist hurts. Nino shouldn’t have to leave. Mikke shouldn’t be left behind.

Terrible.

There’s nothing to be done. He’s stuck waiting to heal.

At least he doesn’t have to worry about the details — it’s all taken care of. He doesn’t like being looked after, but knows it’s better than what he could manage on his own. The team has doctors, they have it all arranged. He just has to get a ride to the hospital, hold out his wrist for them to look at to confirm that yes, it’s broken, yes, they’re going to have to operate.

They ask him how much it hurts; it hurts enough that he answers honestly. They’ll give him something to make that stop, but not really, because even if he can’t feel his hand he won’t be able to play, and that hurts.

The surgery goes well. He’s miserable. He hates hospitals.

Jonas drives him home, and then invites himself in to hang out for awhile, until it starts to get late. Mikke would never admit it, but it’s better with Jonas there to bother in the aftermath. It isn’t good exactly, but it’s better than being alone. There’s only one day left in the year, and it’s probably going to suck. He hadn’t realized how big his bed would feel without Nino in it.

 

 

**December 31st**

He watches the game in Columbus with Jonas. He can’t drink because of the painkillers, which is unfortunate. It’s New Year's Eve. And the team loses without him. He should be able to drink, and to play hockey, but all he gets to do is glare at the television with his aching wrist.

It isn’t that bad of a game. Watching still hurts.

Jonas goes back to his own apartment well before midnight. He needs his rest so he’ll be ready to play when the team gets back. It means Mikke is left alone with nothing to do. He turns on the broadcast of the ball dropping in Times Square, and half pays attention to the new year starting on the East Coast.

Columbus is in the same time zone as New York — Nino is already in 2015, unless their flight is already into the next time zone. Mikke doesn’t know. He isn’t going to wait up. He turns off the television and goes to bed.

 

 

**January 1st**

Nino gets back very late, late enough that it is technically very early New Year’s Day. He tries to be quiet, but isn’t very good at it. Mikke isn’t a heavy sleeper, and he had been looking forward to Nino showing up in the middle of the night. 

It would have been better after a win. But having Nino back is better than being alone. He pulls Nino closer with his good hand, arranges them until Nino is draped over his back, heavy and warm. The second time Mikke wakes up in 2015 is better than the first.

 

 

**January 2nd**

The team beats Toronto without him on Friday, getting the new year off on the right note. It still isn’t a great game. Mikke watches from the pressbox with dissatisfaction. They can defend better than this, he is sure of it. But it’s easy to say that from up here. The game looks so much slower. Nino plays well, in limited minutes. Mikke’s wrist hurts so bad. It’s a win — that’s what matters — two points, who cares how they looked getting them.

The team goes straight from the X to the airport, while Mikke goes home alone.

 

 

**January 3rd**

Mikke plans on watching the game against Dallas the next night. He turns the sound off in the middle of the second period, and never turns it back on. He doesn’t mind missing a game like this, though he can’t help but wonder if things would be different if he was healthy and playing — probably not. Not differently enough to turn a 7-2 loss into anything respectable.

It’s late again when Nino gets back, but Mikke’s still awake. He wishes he could say something, or do something, anything that might make Nino feel better, but he couldn’t come up with anything in the hours between the game turning into an obvious loss and Nino getting home. He feels like a failure, but Nino seems content to crawl into bed together, and press his cold hands against Mikke’s stomach. If that’s what he wants, Mikke can be here. It is better than trying to talk about their nights.

 

**January 6th**

There are two home games before the team leaves him again. They lose to the Sharks in overtime. A day off. They lose to the Blackhawks in regulation. The team gets twice as many shots as Chicago, but still lose because Backstrom has a horrible night. Nino has an assist. Zach doesn't play in either game because his dad is dying.

Mikke watches both games from the pressbox. He doesn’t have anything to offer. The team isn’t playing terribly. It doesn’t seem fair to say they’re missing him. They’re just losing. Sometimes that happens, even though it shouldn’t, even though it doesn’t feel fair. Mikke can’t do anything about it, just watch in pain.

After each loss the only thing he can do is let Nino drive them home, and try to be an adequate distraction. He lets Nino hold onto him as they’re falling asleep. He tells Nino to kiss him harder, that he isn’t fragile. It’s hard to tell if anything he does helps.

Nino’s only going to be home for one more night. The next day there’s a game against Nashville, the first half of a back-to-back. Then Nino will be off to Chicago, and Mikke will be all alone. He feels frustrated and useless now, which will only get worse once the team’s gone.

 

 

**January 9th**

In the morning they drive to the arena together. Nino’s practicing with the whole group, while Mikke is just starting to skate a little bit before and then workout off the ice.

Mikke expected to meet up after practice, maybe make plans for lunch, or at least get a ride. Instead what he finds is Nino gone, and Jonas waiting for him.

“He told me that he had to run an errand, and that we should eat and then I should bring you home,” Jonas explains.

“Did he say what kind of errand?” Mikke asks, trying to think of what Nino might have to take care of before heading out of town.

“Not specifically,” Jonas says, which is a non-answer, but the best Mikke can get out of him all through lunch.

Mikke isn’t worried, but Nino’s probably up to something. It probably isn’t anything bad. He’s curious. If Nino wasn’t doing something worth being curious about he would have told Jonas what it was, or told Mikke what it is, instead of leaving Jonas as a distraction.

Mikke wants to go back to his apartment and feel sorry for himself. Spending time with Jonas is a minor inconvenience, but feels much larger because of the bad mood he’s been in since he got hurt. He simply wants to go home and enjoy the last night before Nino is gone.

 

 

Nino comes home with a cat.

Mikke doesn’t know what to say.

Nino opens the door carrying a very fluffy white cat in a carrier and a shopping bag from a petstore. He sets the carrier down on the floor, and the bag on the table. Mikke watches, frozen in place on the couch. Nino turns to him, and smiles wide. He looks so pleased with himself, Mikke almost doesn’t want to say anything. But that’s a cat, sitting in a box in his apartment. There are a lot of things they can just not talk about, but a living breathing _mewling_ cat can’t be ignored.

“What the hell?” Mikke asks.

“I got you a cat,” Nino says.

That much is obvious — and that isn’t really an explanation at all. 

Mikke doesn’t understand any of this. He will try to wait and listen to what Nino has to say. Maybe this will start making sense.

“I worry that you’ll be lonely while we’re on the road,” Nino says. “I thought it would be good if I got you some company.”

Mikke just stares.

“She’ll be good for you!” Nino says. “Cats are great company, I’m sure you and her will get along very well!”

Mikke doesn’t know what to think of this. He still doesn’t know what to say. “You shouldn’t just buy people cats,” is what he finally settles on.

Nino looks at him, head tilted. “Of course not. I wouldn’t buy anyone else a cat, only you.”

Mikke isn’t sure if that’s sweet or not.

Nino sits on the floor next to the cat carrier. He sticks his fingers through the bars, and coos, “Hi sweetheart.”

Nino never calls _him_ sweetheart… but Mikke doesn’t want that, just like he doesn’t want a cat.

Nino looks up at Mikke, with such big brown eyes — puppy dog eyes, Mikke’s always thought, which is funny considering. “Her name is Princess, and she’s four. Her family moved away, but she’s very sweet, and the two of you should get along very well.”

Mikke doesn’t believe that. She looks mean. Well — so far she mostly looks like a furry white ball in the shadows, but he trusts his instincts.

“Princess?” he asks. He has to.

Nino nods, very seriously. The cat is named Princess. She reaches out to swat at Nino’s fingers sticking in her cage.

Nino yanks his hand back. “Ow. No sweetheart. No.”

Mikke was right, she looks mean.

“You bought me a cat named Princess,” Mikke says.

“Yes. So you don’t get lonely while we’re on the road."

Nino is saying this not only like it makes sense, like it's obvious. Nino sounds proud of himself. He sounds so excited to have found a way to make Mikke feel better while he's gone. It makes Mikke pause instead of going straight into explaining what a terrible idea this is. 

Nino stands up. "I'm going to set up a box, and then we can let her out, and you can start to get to know each other."

Mikke can't quite believe this is happening. He broke his wrist, and then the team lost 7-2 in Dallas, and now Nino brought home a cat. It doesn't make sense. 

It is almost enough to make him wonder if it is all a dream — if the hit in Winnipeg was much worse in a different way. But he'd rather have a cat than another concussion, so he doesn't see the benefit of thinking about that possibility much longer.

This is really happening. Nino really got him a cat. Mikke follows him out of the room, to the rarely used second bathroom, where Nino is setting up a litter box. Nino had better be planning on cleaning that himself. Mikke won’t — can't. His wrist is broken. He can't do anything. 

What is he supposed to do with a cat?

Mikke wants to be angrier, and meaner. He wants to make Nino go away, and take the cat with him. You don’t just buy other people cats. It’s very rude.

But the team leaves again tomorrow, leaving Mikke behind. He doesn’t want to make Nino leave when this is their last chance to be together. He has ideas for the last night before Nino leaves, and none of them involve sleeping in separate beds.

 

 

The cat scratches at the door while they’re having sex. 

Nino doesn’t notice it at first, but when he does, he stops kissing, and it seems like he’s about to get up and do something. That simply isn’t acceptable.

Mikke puts his good hand on the back of Nino’s head, pulling him back in for another kiss. He wraps his legs around Nino’s back, pulling him as close as he can, whining low in his throat when Nino’s dick drags inside him at a different angle. Nino is fully engaged, having completely lost sight of anything that isn’t fucking, just as it should be.

The cat does eventually go away without any intervention. Mikke is still going to hold the interruption against it.

 

 

**January 10th**

It’s an afternoon game at home against the Preds. They drive in together, with Nino’s suitcase in the boot of the car. He’ll leave right after the game, and Mikke will go home alone. Nino goes through his usual game day superstitions, adjusted for the early start, while Mikke does his limited workout. He’s cleaned up and back in his suit in time to watch the game from the pressbox.

They lose. 3-1.

Mikke remembers watching Backstrom play when he was younger, on the national team, and before that for Kärpät. He used to be better than this. That’s a mean thing to think, but true. 

Nino gets an assist on Charlie’s goal, reward for strong play in front of the net. He played well. He should be proud of his game. He should have gotten to play more than eleven minutes.

Mikke finds him for a moment after the game. The bus can’t leave until everyone is ready to go, and there are still people doing press and finishing workouts. They could try to find some real privacy, but for just a minute it doesn’t seem worth the headache. 

Mikke doesn’t know how to tell Nino that he will miss him. Nino keeps on talking about the cat. He says it will be so good for Mikke to have company. Mikke will have to remember to feed it, and make sure it has fresh water, and he has to promise that he’ll give her plenty of attention. The shelter said she is an affectionate cat, that means she likes company. Mikke can’t neglect her. She deserves his love. Nino is insistent about that. He makes Mikke promise to pet her lots. Mikke feels ridiculous, but he goes along with it.

Saying no to Nino tonight sounds so hard.

Mikke doesn’t kiss Nino before he leaves. He thinks about it — he wants to — but there are too many people around, there’s too much going on.

 

 

Sleeping alone isn’t a problem. He does it all the time. They only sometimes share rooms on the road, and Nino is back at his own apartment half the time, or at least something close to that, or at least that’s how it’s supposed to be. They thought about living together, but Mikke needed his own space. He thought he did anyway, when they talked about it last spring.

And he isn’t actually sleeping alone. The cat is watching him from the end of the bed. He gets into bed as soon as he gets home, without anything better to do. After an hour of failing to sleep he gives up and turned on the lamp to find the cat staring at him.

It looks evil.

But he isn’t afraid.

He is much larger than the cat.

She follows him into the other room to watch late night television. He sits in the corner of the sectional, and she’s on the far armrest, but he can feel her watching him, judging his decision to watch mindless detective shows until late into the night.

He falls asleep there. It isn’t comfortable; he’ll be stiff in the morning, but it doesn’t matter when he won’t be playing hockey, or having sex, or doing anything interesting, and he’s already taking something for the pain in his wrist.

He wakes up to the cat pawing at his face. She’s sitting on the coffee table, reaching over just to hurt him.

Evil.

It’s light out, so he might as well wake up. He stands and yawns, wincing as his back cracks. The cat follows him until he closes the bathroom door in her face. He pisses and brushes his teeth.

He texts Nino, _your cat woke me up._

Nino doesn’t text right back. Mikke hopes he’s still asleep. He wishes he was still asleep. He looks in the mirror, trying to decide if he has to wash his hair. It’s fine for another day. Maybe not if he had plans, but it’s fine for staying in his apartment and feeling sorry for himself.

It’s not like the cat is going to judge him. Her hair is ridiculous. And also, she is a cat.

Nino texts back, _she wants to you to feed her!_ and also, _send me a picture so I know you’re both alright,_ and also, _goodmorning!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3_

Only the cat is there to see him smile at his phone, and she can’t tell anyone.

 

 

**January 11th**

The cat watches the game against Chicago with him. Earlier she had ventured onto his side of the sofa to try to steal his dinner, but he had put a stop to that, and by the time the puck drops she’s back perched on the far armrest.

The team plays fine. The chances are much closer than the last time meeting. They lose 4-1. It hurts to watch, but Mikke doesn’t expect anything else. He turns the television off before the commentators can pick the game to pieces.

He doesn’t need to hear that. He just needs to get better so he can help. He doesn’t know how he’s going to do that, they were losing even before he got hurt, but something has to change. This can’t go on forever. 

He will go to sleep, and in the morning he will be one day closer to getting back on the ice.

 

 

**January 12th**

He wakes up and the cat is sitting on Nino’s pillow, staring at him. He rolls over and tries to go back to sleep. It doesn’t work. There’s too much sun getting through the curtains. He isn’t tired, and his wrist hurts. He doesn’t want to get up. There isn’t anything interesting for him to do today.

He feeds the cat. He eats breakfast. He goes to the arena for physical therapy and to work out. And then he goes back to his apartment where there is a nutritious frozen dinner, and an evil cat waiting for him.

There’s nothing stopping him from doing something more interesting. He could go out to eat, or go looking for something exciting happening in the Cities. He could try to enjoy a day away from the usual routines.

Except that he likes his routines: he likes playing hockey, he likes traveling with the team. This isn’t a vacation — he’s broken. He can’t try to enjoy himself. He can only heal.

That’s why he spends another evening watching television with the cat. It’s miserable, but that’s how his night should be.

 

 

Nino texts him before bed, asking for a picture of the cat. Proof of life or something.

Mikke is offended that Nino doubts his ability to keep an animal alive.

He sends the picture anyway.

Nino calls the cat _so cute,_ and asks for another.

It takes six cat pictures and two selfies before Nino is satisfied and able to wish Mikke good night. Mikke knows Nino wouldn’t go to sleep until he saw they were both alive and doing well. It’s important that Nino gets a good night’s rest; there’s a game the next day.

 

 

**January 13th**

Just because Mikke isn’t playing doesn’t mean the games don’t matter. It’s the stuff he’s doing that doesn’t matter. He goes into the rink to work out, which is dreadfully boring, but he’s getting better. He’s getting closer.

It’s better than being at the apartment, alone with the cat, who he isn’t speaking to. It wouldn’t make sense to talk to the cat — she doesn’t understand human languages. It still feels like she’s judging him for swearing at the TV. She’s lucky she is a cat and doesn’t understand hockey or care about this team. She just sits on the coffee table, licking herself, while somehow managing to appear dignified and judgmental. She doesn’t care about anything. That sounds nice.

Mikke loves this team so much. It’s his team, and he loves them so much. They’re terrible. 7-2. It’s pathetic. They have to be better. Mikke needs them to be better, but there is nothing he can do. They are so terrible, and he is so helpless.

He watches the whole thing, swearing steadily, wishing he was drinking, but not allowing himself. He deserves to feel this pain. It’s part of being a team. He isn’t going to start drinking alone to avoid his responsibilities — only no, it wouldn’t be alone. He isn’t going to start drinking alone except for the fucking cat — that sounds even worse. He watches the whole game, and the whole postgame show, and then he goes to bed. He leaves his phone on silent in the living room.

 

 

**January 14th**

When he wakes up there are seven new texts from Nino, one from Brods telling him to text Nino back, and one from Mikko asking if he’s okay, which is the worst. He can’t make Mikko worry. Mikko has enough problems without him acting like a brat and making it worse.

He texts Brods, _fuck off._

Texts Mikko that he’s fine, he just went to bed early. But really, he’s fine.

He sends the same explanation — the truth — to Nino, but with far more emoji, and follows it up with a number of cat pictures.

He goes into the rink to work out, which will make him better. He needs to be prepared to come back. They are going to need everything he can give to dig out of this hole. He has no idea what will be enough.

 

 

That evening it happens — something finally changes. The Wild trade for Devan Dubnyk, which has to be a good thing. He’s a goalie, and has been having a good year. At this point anything would be an upgrade. They need better goaltending if they’re going to start winning games. They need a lot of other things too, the goaltending is a place to start.

Mikke feels hope, but tries to push it down. This might mean nothing. He has to be better. He has to work harder. Hope won’t fix anything.

Things _are_ going to get better. The days are getting longer. His wrist is getting stronger. There is only one day left before Nino comes home. There are things to look forward to, even if it seems like the season is lost.

He’s so worn out from working out earlier. It is almost as much as playing a game, but much worse, because it doesn’t come with the nerves a game carries. There is no victory to celebrate, no defeat to stew in, only deep numbing tiredness. He watches _Top Gun_. The cat sits on top of his chest, and he is too tired to push her away. Her breathing is almost comforting, not quite matching his own. Her chest moves up and down. When he touches her she rumbles.

Mikke can almost understand why Nino likes these things. She’s warm, and very still. She looks as tired as he feels, but she doesn’t have a good excuse. She didn’t spend the afternoon working out. She’s so lazy, and so heavy, keeping him here. Mikke falls asleep on the couch, unwilling to face the argument she’d raise if he moved.

 

 

**January 15th**

The next night the Wild win.

It is against the Sabres, who are _terrible_ , but it is a 7-0 victory, and they need that. Mikke needs this. It feels like breathing good oxygen at last, and he is only watching on TV. Mikke learns that if he shouts at the TV from excitement instead of sad angry swearing the cat will yowl along. It’s vaguely annoying, but he feels charitable enough to forgive her. They won. And now Nino’s getting on a plane, flying home.

He watches the postgame, eager to see the breakdown of highlights, and then gives into channel searching boredom. The cat is needy, bumping her head against his hand, looking for affection. He pets her to make her stop being so annoying. They’re halfway through a thriller, edited for television, the plot of which Mikke isn’t really following, when Nino gets home. The cat goes running for the door. Mikke stands, considers following after her, but decides to preserve his dignity and let Nino come to him.

Nino walks into the room with the cat in his arms, grinning. He looks so happy. The cat looks squished.

“She doesn’t like being picked up,” Mikke says.

“Yes she does,” Nino says. The cat scratches at him. He doesn’t let go. The cat isn’t interested in Nino at all.

“I don’t understand this. You try to pet her, she hates you. I try to ignore her, she climbs all over me. It’s not fair.”

“That’s how cats are,” Nino says. “They love loving people who don’t like them.”

“That isn’t fair, and doesn’t make sense,” Mikke complains.

Nino puts the cat down to scoop Mikke up, pulling him close. Mikke holds onto Nino’s shoulders, and gets up on his toes to kiss better. Nino can’t stop smiling, and that makes their teeth click together, but Mikke doesn’t mind.

 

 

**January 16th**

He wakes up in the middle of the night and Nino is wrapped around his back, and the cat is sprawled in front of them, stretched out to her full length. She’s so incredibly furry, a ball of fuzz. It’s a little bit nice to have her here. She’s warm, and Nino’s warm, and lying between the two of them is alright. Maybe it is fine for them to have a cat.

 

 

He doesn’t feel the same way when she wakes him up, poking her paw in his face, demanding breakfast. That is terrible of her. He doesn’t approve. He turns over, hiding against Nino’s chest. That wakes Nino, who gets up because he likes the cat, and wants her to love him. Nino is responsible. Mikke appreciates that, but would rather have Nino stay in bed with him until they absolutely have to get up.

 

 

That afternoon they go to a funeral. Mikke has never been to a funeral service in English before, and he isn’t sure how much he absorbs. He’s distracted. His wrist itches, but he isn’t going to bother it. He wishes he could hold Nino’s hand, but it feels improper. They’re sitting together as a team, to be supportive. Being a team isn’t always easy, but it matters. Things like today make all the games the lost in a row seem unimportant.

 

 

They go home and lie on the couch and watch television. Nino cajoles the cat into cuddling with them, bribing her into his lap with treats, and then petting her into complacency. It is boring but pleasant, the kind of afternoon it’s easy to take for granted. Mikke is determined to appreciate it. Life is short.

Nino has not been back to his apartment for more than half an hour since getting back from out east. This morning he went to find a black suit and clean underwear, but that’s it. They haven’t discussed it. There is no conversation about how it should make more sense for Nino’s cat to go live in Nino’s apartment. Mikke should say something. He wants to be rid of the thing. And yet…

It’s nice to lie around. To have a quiet evening. Tomorrow there will be another game, which they will need to win, in which Mikke will be unable to help. But that can wait until tomorrow. It’s important to enjoy the nice times when they can.

 

 

**January 17th**

They win against Arizona. Mikke likes watching from the press box better than watching on TV. Nino assists on the first goal. The television would have slowed the play down, made it clearer how Nino drove to the net, making it possible for Charlie to get a shot away. Mikke likes it better that he can go downstairs after the game to see Nino, freshly showered and grinning from ear to ear. 

Two wins in a row is something. Against two horrible teams, true, but it’s still something. It’s something to build off, hopefully. Maybe there is hope. Maybe the entire word doesn’t suck. Mikke isn’t sure yet, he isn’t ready to commit to believing, but he’s less certain of the doom in store for them.

They won, and now Mikke gets to go home and fall asleep squished by Nino and the cat.

 

 

**January 18th**

Mikke is cleared to practice — no contact yet, but he’s out there with his teammates, which is the first step. He’s going to travel with the team to Detroit for the last game before the break, and he might even get to play. Hopefully. Either way it means going somewhere.

He’s starting to wonder what’s going to happen to the cat while they’re on the road. Mikke wouldn’t say he cares exactly? It’s just, he doesn’t want to come back to a dead cat in his appartment. This is only one game, they can leave some food out and it should be fine. But they’re going to leave the next day to spend All-Star break somewhere warm.

Nino must have some sort of plan, right? He wouldn’t just go out and get a cat without thinking about what would happen once Mikke’s back in the lineup?

That sounds exactly like something he might do. Mikke is a little bit concerned. He also doesn’t want to bring this up, because that would make Nino think he cares about the cat. He is just going to trust that Nino has something figured out, even if trust doesn’t come easy.

 

 

Mikke packs a bag, which goes in the back of the car next to Nino’s for the drive to the arena. He had gotten so sick of being left behind. They’ll be going straight from the X to the airport.

Mikke watches from the press box as they lose to Columbus. Not a good game, but close. It would have been better if Zach could have made the penalty shot go, or if Sutes’ goal hadn’t been called off, or if Nino’s shot had gone off the crossbar and in, instead of off the crossbar and out. Or if Mikke had been cleared to play, and had the opportunity to influence how things turned out instead of just sitting and watching. But it isn’t terrible. Mikke’s seen much worse.

The flight is nice. It’s late, but Mikke had missed this. Nino falls asleep on his shoulder. The sky is dark outside the window. It’s serene. Nothing can reach them here. 

They don’t always do this, but Mikke slips out of his own room, leaving Brods to snore alone, joining Nino in his single. He still doesn’t sleep well, restless from nerves that weren’t put to any use, but Nino sleeps soundly, holding him close.

 

 

**January 19th**

The game against the Red Wings is the most frustrating type of loss. They come back from a 4-1 deficit in the third period. Zach’s everywhere, scoring twice, taking the team on his back and into overtime. They lose in the shootout. Zach gets stopped. Mikko gets stopped. Both Red Wings score.

One point is better than none, but they managed to get it so close, Mikke wishes they could have made it work. It was close enough that it’s easy to imagine he could have made a difference. He’s dying to be ready to get out there and help the team. He is ready.

But instead of another game after this, they have a vacation. He doesn’t need a vacation. He needs to make things better.

Nino needs a vacation. Nino went on that road trip, and lost all those games. He was stuck playing limited minutes, frustrated, and sore in unfun ways. Nino needs desperately needs a break.

 

 

**January 20th**

They fly back to the Cities for a half a day of repacking their bags and checking in on the cat, who was fine without them for a day and a half.

Mikke doesn’t ask, but Nino explains that he’s found someone who can check in on the cat while they’re away. There’s some service, which comes highly recommended, Nino has it all figured out. Nothing to worry about. It means he’s given out his copy of Mikke’s key, which they should possibly have a conversation about, but… 

It’s good that the cat is being looked after. It isn’t Mikke’s cat, but he’s opposed to animal neglect in general. He isn’t surprised that Nino has a plan. Nino’s very good at looking after the things he cares about, almost overwhelmingly so on occasion. Mikke is very aware of this. The cat’s very existence in their life is an example of Nino trying to look after him.

Getting a cat may not have been as terrible an idea as Mikke originally thought. Mikke isn’t sure if he’d go as far as to say he approves, but it isn’t the worst.

The flight isn’t all that different from any other, except Jonas isn’t the kicking the back of their chairs, and when they land it’s a tropical paradise instead of another NHL city. 

The sun is very bright. The sky and water are both very blue. Mikke is warm enough without Nino holding onto him, but isn’t mean enough to push Nino away. He spends the trip constantly reapplying sunscreen, aware of how badly he burns, while Nino lies next to him, sprawled shirtless, tanning beautifully. 

They rest, eat well, and have fantastic sex. By the time they leave for Minnesota, Nino doesn’t seem tired at all, which is worth the delay. Mikke can wait a little bit longer to get back on the ice if that’s what’s necessary for Nino to seem truly relaxed and recharged.

They have to be ready when the games start up again. They’ve dug quite a hole this season. They’re going to need to be phenomenal if they want to get anywhere. Mikke believes though. Or at least he’s willing to try.

 

 

**January 25th**

They get back to the Cities, and it’s cold again. Mikke doesn’t mind the cold. He likes ice and snow and hockey, and having someone warm to curl up with at night.

The cat rushes up to the door to meet them. Nino drops his bags just inside the door to pick her up.

“Hi Princess!” He lifts her up, then decides to cradle her close to his chest. 

Cute. 

Mikke kicks Nino’s bag further inside so he can pull the door shut. Home again, if only for a day.

Nino is never going to put the cat down. He’s talking to her, “We had such a nice trip, Princess. It was beautiful, and so warm. We were laying around in the sun, just like you do, but we were on the beach, and you’re an indoor cat, aren’t you?” Nino holds her face close to his to say, “Yes you are. You’re an indoor cat, yes you are.” 

Nino seems unaffected by the cat’s glare, and so far she’s keeping her claws to herself.

It’s sweet. It isn’t like she’ll understand an explanation of where they were, but she would have noticed that they were gone. That’s different. Nino hasn’t really gotten hurt since they’ve started all this. Mikke’s never had someone waiting for him to get home before. It’s always been the other way round. Now Princess will be waiting for them both.

That will be interesting. 

They’re going to go places together, long road trips, or just to morning skate. And then they’re going to come home together, back to the same place, where the cat will be waiting for them. Mikke suspects he will enjoy this, but isn’t sure.

It’s nice to listen to Nino babytalk the cat while he starts to unpack. It’s much better than being alone. They’re very distracting.

When Nino finally puts her down, she scurries off to hide. She shows up again when Mikke is getting ready for bed. She winds between his ankles while he brushes his teeth in front of the bathroom sink.

He wonders if this means she missed him. He’s never spent time with a cat before, he doesn’t know how to interpret any of her behaviors. He figures it’s probably time for him to learn. Nino was mysterious enough at the start, but they’ve figured each other out now, more or less.

Nino comes up behind him, hooking his chin over Mikke’s shoulder, and smiling at their reflections in the mirror. Mikke leans back against him. Nino’s arms wrap around his middle, and for a moment Mikke lets himself be held.

They leave for tomorrow, for hockey games that Mikke will actually get to play in. Three games in Canada, then home again, returning to a cat who might have missed them. The days are getting longer. Eventually spring will come, and melt away a bad winter. Hopefully they’ll manage to win enough games between now and then to claw into the playoffs.

Even if it doesn’t work, if the rest of the season goes on as it has, loss after loss, they’ll still have this.

Mikke likes it better when he’s playing games and they’re winning, but that isn’t everything. Even after a loss they can go home to the comfortable domestic life they’ve made for themselves. There’s no rule that they can’t. Mikke can stop wallowing in any available misery. The world isn’t all bad. He has Nino, and hockey, and their cat.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Scratch the Terror (The Lost and Found Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10318211) by [coricomile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile)




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